


Fools Who Play with Fire: Part I

by writersstareoutwindows, YogfairyWorld



Series: YogfairyAU [1]
Category: Hatfilms, The Yogscast, Yogfairy AU
Genre: Hatfilms - Freeform, Hatfilms Magic, Hatfilms transformation, Magic, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 09:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4823657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writersstareoutwindows/pseuds/writersstareoutwindows, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YogfairyWorld/pseuds/YogfairyWorld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trott finds magic, things go horribly wrong, Smiffy wants to fight everything. For the YogfairyAU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fools Who Play with Fire: Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Written by Writersstaresoutwindows. Credit for the original script and plot of this story goes to falcons-strike.

_Welcome to the forest, to flower fairies and lightning mages, to cursed humans and tainted exiles. Shadows lurk here, black and purple. Still, there is much that is good, if only you look. But mind you don’t look too long, or you may never leave._

~

_Fools who play with fire are the first to burn._

~

Ross was asleep on the couch and Smiffy was making eggs when Trott burst through the door. Usually the calmest of the group, right now he was a firecracker of excitement. He shouted so loudly that Ross tumbled off the couch in surprise.

“Guys! Where the–oh, hey Ross.”

Ross had propped himself on his elbows over the side of the coffee table. His hair stuck up all over the place. “What is it now?”

“Probably another weird-shaped rock,” Smiffy called from the kitchen.

Trott was grinning like he’d spent the whole day in his very own field of dirt. “Guys, I have very good news.” He was bouncing excitedly with his arms behind his back.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“I bet it’s a three-leafed clover with another leaf glued on.”

Trott was too excited to snap at Smiffy’s remarks and Ross’s snickering. He walked dramatically back and forth in front of the coffee table.

“Okay. So. I was in the forest and I found something…actually, it flew into my face.”

Smiffy muttered something rude to Ross, who yelled “FILFY!” at the top of his voice. Trott kept right on talking. He’d put up with their nonsense plenty of times; he just raised his voice to be heard over the banter.

“As I was fucking saying, I found something and it’s not a weird rock. It is, in fact–”

“That’s a relief, mate.”

“In fact!” Trott was nearly shouting at this point. He whipped a jar from behind his back and slammed it onto the table an inch from Ross’s face. “It’s a fucking fairy and you guys should worship me for this find, damn it!”

Smiffy stepped around the kitchen counter, eyebrows raised. “Fucking worship you, eh?”

Ross was staring into the jar. “Smiffy,” he said.

“I’ll give you something to–”

“Smiffy!”

Ross’s reverent tone shut him up. Inside the jar sat a girl in a flower dress, surrounded by a few twigs and curled-up leaves. Her dragonfly wings fluttered uselessly, out of habit, and tear tracks stained her purple cheeks.

Smiffy did a full one-eighty, turning on Ross in disbelief. “The fuck is that?”

Trott couldn’t hide his smirk. “A fairy. Like I said.”

“Holy shit.” Ross was actually whispering.

Trott balanced a hand on top of the jar. “This,” he said, “is going to revolutionize how people see themselves. More important, it’s going to make us rich.”

Apparently unable to contain himself anymore, he scooped the jar into the air. He skipped around the living room, shouting, “We’re gonna be rich, we’re gonna be rich!” over and over like a schoolyard chant.

He could see it all in his head, how this was going to change the world. He’d found magic. After months of mockery and frustration, he was right, he was right. This was going to change his life.

Ross and Smiffy could see it all, too–fame, riches, enough to buy their own beachside condos and flatscreens and good fucking computers and never have share a bathroom again. No cramped offices, no roommates coming home at two in the morning, no broken air conditioning in the middle of summer.

The pair hoisted Trott onto the coffee table, where he raised the jar to the ceiling and yelled, “We are going to change everything! And there is nothing that can stop us!”

They were euphoric. Inside the jar, the half-purple fairy was terrified.

She sat absolutely still in the center of the jar, clutching a stick so tightly her fingers ached. If she didn’t move, maybe the flux wouldn’t spread and maybe the humans would forget about her and maybe she would just disappear.

She wanted nothing more than to be home with her animals, her rabbits and frogs and dragonflies and squirrels. If she’d stayed a little closer to home, stayed away from forest’s edge, this wouldn’t have happened. But how could she have known the taint biome was spreading? This wasn’t her fault…it wasn’t her fault…why was she being punished for it? Why had Martyn banished her?

Fear kept her from wiping away tears that streamed down her face. Another sudden movement of the jar sent her sprawling against the side. She slammed her fists into the glass, but she was too small to break anything.

And then, as she slumped to the floor in a blanket of leaves, crying and trying not to scream, magic tingled in her fingertips. She stared at her hands in horror with her heart beating faster than lightning, and that made it worse. The purple goo was spreading. To her elbows, past, purple streaks that sizzled then settled on her skin. She clamped her hands around her shoulders like that could stop it. Arms crossed over her chest, she rocked back and forth.

“Not now. Please, not now.”

Her heart felt tight. Purple tendrils circled her chest.

“No no no no no.”

Her heart sizzled, settled.

Don’t cry, child.

And her voice rose in an involuntary shriek.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?”

Her voice, not her words. She was so loud that Trott almost dropped the jar to cover his ears. The lads stared at each other, then the tiny girl with new purple streaks on her wings.

Trott didn’t know what to say, so he said the obvious. “It–it talks.”

“Of course I FUCKING talk you PIECE OF SHIT, what do you take me for!”

How did something so small make so much noise? Even Smiffy never managed to yell this loudly. Her voice seemed to pierce all of them, right through the chest.

“You STINKING HUMANS should not have captured me! You will regret this with every bone in your body, I’m warning you.”

Ross and Smiffy joined Trott on the coffee table, staring at the fairy in stunned silence. She slammed her fists against the glass. Ross jumped backwards.

“Do you have any IDEA what kind of POWER I have?”

The fairy clawed at her chest. Petals shredded off the flower that had grown there, rooted in her heart. She wanted to cry but had so little control of herself, she was so scared. That voice was not hers, the force behind it–no, no, this was all wrong.

There was a voice in her head. Not hers.

Mother.

“This is your fault.”

Yes, child. Isn’t this fun, yelling at humans?

“No. They don’t deserve this.”

What? There was an echo through her skull like laughter. They capture you and torture you, and you don’t think they deserve this?

“Yes.”

Oh, dear. I’ll show you all they deserve.

“No! You don’t deserve my mind. Get out. Let me go!”

Child… A breeze with no source touched her cheeks like a mother’s hand. I’m just getting started.

It turned into a vicious wind that pulled her hair, tore apart the leaves, snapped the sticks, and drowned out every sound except her scream.

How much of it was her own voice, how much was Mother’s, she did not know. The only thing the poor lads knew was that their heads were being split open by the sound. Trott dropped the jar; it shattered before it touched the ground.

The shriek was animalistic and huge and mournful. It reached into their brains and pulled up all their worst memories. It rattled their bones. Trott managed to hold on to just one thought in the chaos–that this was the saddest sound he’d heard in his life.

Ross fell off the table because he’d hidden his whole face inside his hoodie. Smiffy crouched with his arms around his head. Trott alone saw the fairy, melting into a purple storm, rise from the wrecked glass. She kept screaming, screaming, and met Trott’s gaze with a look of raw and utter terror.

Something moved him to reach out a hand toward that desperate soul, something that was all mixed up with guilt and fear and pity. But oh, too late–she wrapped her arms around the flower blooming from her chest, pulling inward even as her wings spread and shattered.

The fairy exploded in a blast of white light. A wave of heat scorched the three of them, followed by cold, the kind that sizzles and settles. The white flash rolled over the whole house. Drawers shook, shelves rocked, the coffee table cracked. But when it passed and the ringing noise faded, all remained untouched.

Except Ross. Except Smiffy. Except Trott.

They would regret this with every bone in their bodies.

****

The ringing in his ears was so loud that Trott couldn’t hear a single other thing. He finally opened his eyes when the purple afterimage faded. He was lying on his back on the coffee table, and it looked as though absolutely nothing had changed. As if there’d been no fairy, no screaming, no explosion.

Smiffy’s voice managed to register in his ears. “Trott! What did you bring into our house!”

“I…am not sure, mate.”

He decided he had better sit up and stop staring at the ceiling. He had hell to pay.

“What the fuck happened?”

Trott rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know, she just–”

“Guys.” Ross’s voice this time, farther away than it should have been. “You’re going to want to have a look around.”

Trott stood up finally, but what he saw nearly knocked him to his knees. Looking through the coffee table’s glass top felt like standing on the apartment roof. A crack snaked between his feet. To his right the couch was an ocean liner, the walls skyscrapers.

Ross waved at him from the floor. He was the size of a toy soldier. Trott decided to sit down before he collapsed instead.

“Of course.” His hands were in his hair. “It’s a dream, isn’t it? It’s all a big fucking dream.”

No fairy, no magic, no scream that pulled up all his guilt. No way he could be any smaller than he had been to begin with.

“I’m going to wake up, and this is all going to be over.”

“Trott.”

Why couldn’t Smiffy ever shut up?

“What?”

Smiffy was decidedly not looking at the giant house around him. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“I didn’t think this was gonna happen!”

“Of course not. You never think about these things.”

“Who’s going to think about this shit?” Trott jumped to his feet. He was so angry that he didn’t notice when they didn’t touch down again.

Ross noticed, though. While the others got deeper into their argument, he waved his arms and shouted. At this size he was so much quieter.

“Trott! Oi, Trott!” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Trottimus, you idiot!”

“What?”

They yelled at the same time as they turned on Ross. He just pointed through the glass at Trott’s back.

“You’re flying, mate.”

As soon as Trott realized he was a foot off the ground, he tumbled back down in surprise. Smiffy laughed out loud, but shut up at the sight of two drooping blue wings with orange stripes on his friend’s back. Had they been there the whole time?

“Shit shit shit.” Trott just kept whispering that. “Maybe the explosion transferred some magic to us…shit, shit!” He raised his arm to get a better look at his back.

“How the fuck do we reverse it, then?” Smiffy demanded, even as he and Ross checked over their shoulders.

Pale white wings extended from Ross’s shoulder blades, veined in chestnut brown. An experimental flap jerked him into the air with a shout. Jutting from Smiffy’s back was what looked like a bundle of sticks, nothing more. He swore under his breath–he didn’t want his friends to know he was disappointed. These skinless scraps weren’t wings at all, just useless.

Ross crashed onto the table. He was grinning like an idiot. “Holy shit! This is incredible!”

Trott bobbed up and down in the air. “How’d you get up here? This is impossible.” He started to wobble, then “Oh–” and fell before he could swear.

“Try flapping like this, you just–wait, no–” Ross was turning circles. “Ah, fuck, I don’t know.”

“Maybe you need a better run-up, like this…”

Smiffy tried to quash the bit of jealousy curling under his skin as he watched Ross spin and Trott run over the side of the table. They were all of them the size of bugs now, and those stupid fairy wings were just one more thing wrong. He wanted to scream for frustration and tear the wings off Trott’s back.

And he wanted to fly, fuck it, yes, he wanted to fly.

“I think you’re supposed to do it like this,” he said finally. He extended his twiggy excuse for a wing to show them.

It promptly caught fire.

“Holy SHIT!”

Smiffy drew the wing back. It extinguished.

Ross sat himself down on top of the remote, wide-eyed. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m done with any new weirdness.”

“Wait…” A devilish grin was spreading across Smiffy’s face. He extended his wing, which burned orange and crackled, alive. Running a hand through the fire brought no pain, just a sense of heat and energy. “Wait…”

He spread both wings wide. The fire that framed his face made him look that much more unnerving. He started to run, right past Trott over the edge of the table.

He jumped. He flew.

“Woo-hoo-hoo!”

His delighted shouts filled the air. Smiffy watched the living room circle below him as he rose so high that his wings scorched the ceiling. He didn’t care, he didn’t care, he was literally on top of the world. For the first time in a long time, he felt free.

So of course he turned over in the air and dive-bombed his friends. Ross backed up while Trott actually fell over trying to get out of the way. Smiffy felt his heart rate spike as he shot through the air, heat at his back and wind whistling through his hair. He landed hard in three-point formation like an actual fucking superhero. A wave of flames rippled out when he made impact. It singed Trott’s sneakers.

Smiffy fell back on his butt and just started laughing. The others came up beside him with grins on their faces. Fading sunlight cut their living room into light and dark puzzle pieces. And they saw it all, every inch, from the shattered jar to the stack of games taller than Ross to the figurines lined up on the stairs. It was like looking around a city at twilight.

“I guess size does change everything,” Trott said.

Ross snickered. “You would know.”

“You know what else changes everything?” Smiffy tipped his head back to look up at his friends. “Some dinner. I’m fucking starving.”

“Me too,” Ross said.

“I could go for something.” Trott shrugged. “Weird day calls for good food.”

Ross was first into the air on the battlecry of “To the fridge!”

The three of them fluttered haltingly into the kitchen, still unused to their wings. The smell that hit them was awful, acrid. Thin curls of smoke drifted from a frying pan on the stove top.

“Ah, fuck, my eggs!”

Smiffy’s eggs had gone black and curled in on themselves. The smell was so bad that Smiffy held his breath as he flew over to the burner. The switch was big enough that he had to sit on it to press it down, and then, of course, it wouldn’t turn.

“Shit, guys! I’m gonna burn the place down.”

Some help from his friends and they managed to turn the switch. The rubbery sludge in the pan kept smoking for a while.

“Well, that’s great,” Trott said. “Try the fridge now?”

Ross had taken a seat on the fridge handle with an expression of mild horror on his face. “I don’t think that’s gonna work, mate. This thing’s five times our size. No way we can open it.”

Smiffy’s experimental tugs only proved Ross right. Trott furrowed his brow.

“Okay…breadbox, then?”

They flew over together. The box was taller than Smiffy and had a soup can on top that held it down. All three of them together couldn’t lift it.

“Who the fuck left chicken noodles on top of this thing?” Smiffy shouted. He was pulling at his hair.

Trott went red. “We can probably push it off, have another go. It’ll be–”

“No!” Smiffy whirled on him, again. His eyes blazed brighter than his wings. “Look around! We can’t do anything! We’re stuck like this, we’re tiny little fuckers and we’re gonna starve because we can’t do anything!”

Smiffy had already hit he conclusion the others were racing to. Trott dropped out of the air into the pit of horror yawning at his feet. Couldn’t open the fridge, the bread box, anything. Couldn’t even call for help.

Worst of all, he knew that if anyone saw them, they’d stick the three of them in jars with holes poked in the top. Just like he’d done.

“This is all your fault!”

Trott knew it.

“Wow, mate, calm down.” Ross tried to come between the two of them. When Smiffy’s arms caught fire, he stopped.

“Because of YOU, Trott! It’s because of YOU we’re like this! It’s because of YOU that we are in this shit!”

“I didn’t know this was going to happen.”

Smiffy was burning. Trott was shaking. But he held his ground–it was all the had left.

That fire surging down Smiffy’s arms grew and grew. His rage just fueled it until he looked like a human torch three times his original size, and he didn’t even notice. He was yelling and cursing because he needed someone to blame.

Ross and Trott watched their friend in horror. They watched fire catch on the oil he’d spilled earlier. They watched it spread across the counter, to the curtains, up the walls. They watched their house go up in flames.

Ross dared approach. “Smiffy! Stop!” He had to shield his eyes from the glow. “Smiffy!”

Trott pushed past him and grabbed Smiffy’s burning shoulders. He choked back a shout as his hands burned, but he held on.

“Smiffy! We have to get out of here!”

Smiffy stared without really seeing for a second. Then, when he focused on Trott, the blaze left his eyes, the fire melted from his skin, and his wings closed. He wobbled slightly, dazed.

Trott grabbed one hand, Ross the other. They flew and stumbled out of the smoke-filled house, coughing and sweating, Trott’s hands throbbing. The cool night air was a relief. They landed with Smiffy still leaning on them for support. When he recovered, they took to the air again and left their inferno-home behind.

They didn’t look back. Not once.


End file.
